As he went about his day he'd stop at the table. Sometimes he'd just stare down at the board and frown. At lunch he'd bring a sandwich made of a slice of cheese and a little mustard on thick slabs of bread. He'd sit and finger that pawn or bishop, maybe his queen.

If he hadn't made a move by evening, he'd sit with a tumbler of whiskey, dressed for bed. With no one to bother him and no one to bother, he'd stay up for as long as it took.